


Pink Lemonade

by Underestimated_amateur



Series: Honey Eyes And a Wolf's Heart [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Babysitter Derek Hale, Derek-centric, Fluff, Ice Cream Parlors, Implied Mates, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Some dark themes, Werefox Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 21:44:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13152633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underestimated_amateur/pseuds/Underestimated_amateur
Summary: A month later, Derek gets his first job. Stiles seems to enjoy it more than he does.





	Pink Lemonade

A month later, Derek gets his first job. Stiles seems to enjoy it more than he does. 

 

One scoop chocolate, two scoops strawberry, a squeeze of fudge, hold the sprinkles, and plop a cherry on top. Done. 

He plops the scooper into its water filled hole, mentally checking to make sure he got the order right as he places the bowl down on the front counter. Giving a small smile, he bids the customer a, “thank you, come again.” 

The customer, a little girl with brown curls, snags it into her small hands. Grinning like a lottery winner, she thanks him before getting dragged away by her father. That was his twentieth customer today and it's only noon. Still, so far so good. 

“You're doing fine, chill,” a voice behind him pipes up. He turns and gives his co-worker a weary frown as he wipes his hands on his apron. It's his first day working at the little ice cream shop he and Stiles had visited over the years. He really wants to not mess this up. 

“I'm okay,” he responds, trying to be convincing.  

His only co-worker that shares his shift rolls her eyes. She doesn't believe him for a second. “That's what I'm  _ saying _ . Don't be so nervous, you're a good worker.” 

He’s about to make a sarcastic remark, but she beats him to it, grinning at something over his shoulder. “Heads up, I think you got a visitor.” She says, heading to the back, blond ponytail bouncing slightly with each step. 

Derek jerks his head around, knowing who it is before they even walked through the door. Sweet warm caramel hits his nose and he automatically feels himself relax for the first time today. He smiles, watching Stiles strut into the little ice cream shop like he owns it, his dad trailing after him. 

“Dere!” The kit chirps, standing on the edge of his toes and arms resting on the counter, he was barely tall enough to see over the thing. Stiles is grinning a mile a minute, honey brown eyes sparking up at him. “Hi!” 

“How you holding up?” John asks, dressed up in his uniform. 

“I’m alright,” he repeats, shrugging. His eyes scan over to the man’s get up then back to his face. “I thought you had the day off?” 

John’s smile crumbles into a look of guilt and stress. “About that, I got called in. It’s important and I didn’t have anywhere else to take him. I know this is asking a lot, but could he stay here?” 

“I’m working,” Derek blinks, frowning. 

“I know, but I’m out of options here.” 

“What about Scott’s place?” This should be Ms. McCall’s day off too? Unless her schedule has changed again. Or maybe she got called in as well? Hospital shifts scare him. 

“That’s not,” the sheriff sighs in frustration, leaning in. “Look,” his voice is quieter, his eyes flickering to the back door Derek’s coworker left through. The room is empty besides the three of them. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” 

“Sure,” Stiles pipes up, smiling, looking away from the ice cream toppings. “What about?” 

John frowns, “not you, kiddo. Just Derek.” 

The kit doesn’t seem to like the idea of not being included, but all of his protest are brushed off. John ushers him over to a table into the far corner. If Stiles concentrates, it’s not out of earshot, but it’s not out of eyesight either. He glares at them from across the room, pouting at being left out. Pulling out a rag, Derek starts wiping the front counter, doing his best to appear nonchalant. 

“What’s going on?” He inquires softly, keeping his voice down. 

“There was a body found in the woods, gunshot wound to the chest. They seem to think she’s been dead for a week now.” The man explains carefully. 

Derek’s brows furrow. Another body? That’s the fifth one in the last few months, that they know of at least. All died by the gunshot of a .270 winchester gun. Some victims showed signs of tazing as well. Nothing about the victims add up; an old museum janitor, high school bus driver, engineer, etc. Female and male, young and old, and each having a variety of genetics. None of them knew each other and there isn’t a pattern in the victims except how they met their end. The killer themselves is a whole other problem. They’re clean and skilled, never leaving hints or clues behind. Practiced in a way a gun is an extension of themselves. The areas where the victims were shot were brutal too. Gunshots to the stomach, lungs, and anywhere else that leaves the victims to die slowly of blood loss, and each attacked when alone and in places they wouldn’t be able to find help. It was almost like a sick little game to the killer. That’s all Derek could find. 

He might sneak a peek at John’s files every once in a while when the man isn't looking, but who needs to know that? Besides, John’s never overly shares his cases, but something seemed off lately. As if Derek’s out of some loop he doesn’t even know about it. 

“And Stiles has to be here… because?” 

Not that Derek isn’t happy to see Stiles, he always is. This was his job, though. He needed to be professional and not distracted. 

“Not here, with  _ you. _ ” John clarifies, giving the shifter a look. 

Suddenly it all clicks. John wants Stiles to stay with Derek, because Derek is the safest option besides with Claudia. The man is worried, and that makes Derek worried. He doesn’t show it, biting back his nerves, he nods. “Okay, I’ll look after him.” 

John relaxes, relief washing over his tense features. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” He turns to his kid sitting in the corner of the room. “Stiles, I’ll be back when I can. Behave, understand?” 

Stiles huffs, sulking, but scoots out of the booth and trots over to his dad. The man bends down so he can throw his small arms around John’s neck in a goodbye hug. Still pouting, though, after the hug he heads back to his table without a single glance over his shoulder. Derek smiles at the kit, but frowns, realizing something. 

“Where’s Claudia?” He asks, quirking a brow at the policeman. He tries to hide his suspicion. 

“Busy.” 

The wolf waits for him to elaborate further, but the man says nothing else on the topic. 

So Claudia must be in on whatever John’s keeping from him. 

John smiles at him, before turning on his heels and leaving. “Stay safe you two,” he calls at the entrance. 

“We will,” Derek responds, but his heart wasn’t in it. 

What is going on? 

“Sourwolf!” Someone yells, snapping him from his thoughts. Without him noticing, he smiles at Stiles, heading over to the kit. 

“Yes? What can I get for you, sir?” He asks, watching the little one’s sour mood fade away. 

“One lemonade, please,” Stiles giggles. He probably looks at this as some kind of game. 

“Coming right up,” he says, adding another, “sir.” Just to entertain him. He has a glass of lemonade in front of Stiles in less than a minute, putting the drink on his own tab to pay later when his first paycheck comes in. “Here you go.” 

The kit slurps it for all it's worth. Derek only ruffles soft brown hair before getting back to work. 

 

The day passes by more peacefully than it did starting out. Stiles rocks on the heels of his feet as Derek locks up for the night; a compromise with his co-worker/boss for having a child with him during his shift. The sky above is dark, stars twinkling down at them. Stiles insists on holding hands as they walk to the wolf shifter's used, beat up car. One day he'll have something nicer. Something slick and black that runs smoothly. 

Crossing the parking lot, Derek suddenly feels a chill down his spine. The hair on the back of his neck stand on end, his shoulders squaring. He shudders, quickly looking around them for someone, but the two of them seem to be the only ones around. And yet he swears it feels like he's being watched. He sniffs, but becomes even more frustrated when there no new scent to pick up on. 

What is going on. 

If he starts walking a little faster, clutching the kit’s hand a little tighter, Stiles doesn't seem to notice.

  
  
  
  
.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, I'm back from the grave! Sorry for the delay. Honestly, it took a lot of editing, but I'm finally satisfied enough with this part to upload it. 
> 
> Drop a comment and tell me what you think?
> 
> Happy holidays everyone! 
> 
> Until next time.


End file.
